Ophidia in Herba
by Bellalyse Winchester
Summary: 'Snake in the Grass'. There's only one way to kill the Doctor. A lot of my own headcanon is alluded to here, but not expressly mentioned. Rated T for safety.


"Koschei."

The light was too damned bright that morning, too damned bright for the crumpled, scruffy figure to look up at the stern, cold woman standing in front of him, a tall, broad-shouldered man on either side of her and a metal patch over one eye. Still, the word she spoke pricked at his ears. Squinting and inclining his head by the slightest degree, his lips curled into a weak, but no less scathing, sneer.

"Gesundheit," he answered, almost as a challenge. "Could you leave? You're standing on my property."

The woman looked at her feet; she was standing on the fringe of a thick mass of newspapers.

"It's a terrible shame to see you sink so low, Koschei."

"Wha's Koschei?"

"Don't play the fool, Time Lord. Or would you prefer one of your other names? I hear a few years ago on this world, you were known as 'Prime Minister'?"

"Hm. Getting warmer."

The woman leaned forward, a recriminating gleam in her eye. "Master."

The spoken name invigorated the man; he ran a hand over his lips, which parted to form a toothy grin. "Well, now. You mean business, don't you? No name anymore, though. What's a name?"

"Oh, God, he's gone existential."

"Not existential," the man countered. "Insane!" He laughs, his mouth and eyes opening wide. "Lost! You're out of luck if you're looking for a Time Lord. I'm just trying to get enough quarters to get myself through the month."

"We're looking for a child."

The man snorted. "Damn good place to start, a homeless, childless bloke in a city park."

"The _only _place to start, seeing as you're the child we seek."

At this, the man faltered. Narrowing his eyes, he turned his head slowly, his gaze resting once on each of the woman's bodyguards.

"What do you know about me?"

"Oh, more than you can imagine."

"Spare me the high-and-mighty talk. What do you know about me?"

This was met with an amused smile. "I know that you are the perfect tool to bring down the Doctor."

The man's gaze returned to the woman; his glare was intense. "Rassilon tried that once before, with me. Didn't work so well for him."

"I'm not Rassilon."

"I should think not. I'd recognize your slippery fingers anywhere." He sprang forward, grabbing her hand in his and squeezing, his knuckles white. The bodyguards easily pushed him back, but the woman's wrist grew dark with bruising.

"It's Kovarian." The woman looked irritably at her wrist before returning her focus to the man. "That's the only name I answer to now."

"Should've known _you'd _survive. Fighting a war…that's not exactly your style. You crawled off into your TARDIS, hiding away with your experiments."

"Nobility ends without fail in death. The other Time Lords learned that lesson."

"And now you want me…for what, exactly?"

"To assure that all ends as it must." The woman knelt down beside him, beginning to sneer. "All of the pieces are in place. You're the final element. The most important element. I know each turn this tale will take, and I know that there is only one way to truly kill the Doctor. The rest…a trap must be strewn with red herrings."

"How do you kill the Doctor?"

"Break his hearts."

The guards reached down, grabbing the man's arms. He fought against them to no avail; their grips were stiff, and he couldn't escape no matter how fiercely he struggled.

Then they took him. Strapped him to a table and injected him with cyanide. He thrashed against the table, hands curling and body writhing. There were heavy thuds as his back leapt off the table only to crash back down again in agony.

Through this Kovarian watched, eye flicking idly between his body and a computer scanning his anatomical readout. Gold began to envelope him. At this moment she turned several dials; a panel in the ceiling opened, and the regeneration energy flickered once. The body began to change, but the gold energy, rather than simply being released, began to pour almost completely from him. Memory, thought…everything that was the Master was torn away, funneling skyward into a small fob watch.

She stepped forward when the process ended, looking down on her creation. Wide, infant eyes stared up at her. Finally, she had her weapon. Nothing could open the Doctor's hearts so well as a child.

She left the boy on the front porch of a child welfare agency. There would be no question; some teenager had a child she didn't want, and abandoned it there. The rest was already planned.

The Williams family had wanted a child. She'd met them before; she knew she had to make sure everything went exactly as it should. Leadworth was out of the way. He would grow up good and innocent, and everything the Doctor valued. He would be underestimated, then respected. The Doctor wouldn't even know it as his walls began to break down.

Kovarian twirled the fob watch in her fingers, running her thumb over the Gallifreyan etchings excitedly. The Doctor wouldn't be prepared. Only when he believed the most would she tear the walls down and let them fall in upon him.


End file.
